The Los Santos Blume
by BrubMcBruhsters
Summary: A year has passed since the death of Lucky Quinn, the owner of the Chicago South Club. This has caused ripples in the criminal world, as trafficking between the two seaboards has suffered a major blow. Now, Aiden seeks peace by fleeing from his past life in Chicago, and moving to Los Santos. He is wanted for the human traffic blow, and a certain trio will be in the midst of it all.
1. Chapter 1: The Beginning

**Chicago**

**December 31st, 2013**

_They're all __gone._

Aiden sat alone in a grey Cavale, with the tinted windows up and the engine shut off. The snow lightly floated down upon the ground around the car, as it began to frost along the mirrors. He turned on the wipes of the car to remove the snow, and stare out into the Chicago skyline over the frozen canals. He was in Pawnee, and the once monotonous brown of the forest soil was replaced with the dreary whiteness of ice and snow. He sat alone, with the rest of the would-be hikers and explorers in their homes to avoid the frozen winds billowing about. Aiden had no one left in Chicago; T-Bone went into hiding, Clara was dead, and the rest of his family already left Chicago.

He pondered about his life, and what his meaning was on Earth. It was obvious that he would not commit suicide, as doing so would not benefit anyone at all; not him, not his family, and not the ones he had rescued and may rescue in the future. Alas, Chicago was slate already filled to him. The police have him wanted, Blume wants him for his intrusions, and the Chicago South Club wants him for the death of Lucky Quinn. If he stayed any longer,_it would_ be blatant suicide. While browsing throughout the local transportation, he found a company called _flyUS _had recently built an airstrip some miles south of Chicago. Their slogans and advertisements were rather odd, saying how crappy they were, but Aiden just thought it was to incite humor and persuade others to feel the incompetence of the flight. The advertisements localized to Chicago, however, boasted about the sunshine of a city known as Los Santos, and the wonders of being a part of a famous city, with famous buildings and famous people. Aiden wasn't drawn to this advertisement for what it said, though. He was drawn in due to it simply being another city than Chicago. Yes, he did hear airlines boasting about faraway cities and countries, but Los Santos just sounded better to him.

He turned on the ignition of the Cavale, and started to head down a dirt road frozen with ice. Signs overhead spoke of the nearest cities, but his destination was the airstrip. The airstrip was really all that mattered to him at this point; not that anyone had him matter to them, anyways. The same series of trees relapsed over and over in his vision, as the road stretched onward into a frigid mist. The night fully consumed the sky now, and the car lights were the only thing illuminating the darkness. After some time had past, signs began to spring up in the right side of the road, stating that the newly built airstrip was nearby.

_Another life now...it **has **to be better than Chicago ever was._

He thought of his niece and her grave, still a faraways back. Even though it hurt him to leave the grave seemingly forever, he also thought that it would mend old wounds already figuratively carved into him. Even her mother soon lost most of the grieving pain that came with the loss, but for some reason, it never left Aiden. He hoped that leaving Illinois would help with this.

The arching roof of the airstrip's terminal soon entered his view. He felt for his phone and Chrome revolver, hoping that he would not have to use either of them. He pulled into the parking garage next to the terminal, abandoning the Cavale for good. It wasn't his anyways, and it would return to it's rightful owner soon enough.

As Aiden entered the terminal, a gush of warm air blew over him. Not many people were in the terminal; the ones that were there were keeling over in their benches, sleeping or using their phones while being huddled together. He walked around, before glancing at the Departures. There was a plane going to Los Santos, and he would be boarding it.

He felt for some cash, but he had none. He left most of it in the old Blume containers, and the money that he had left with was spent on gas and food. He felt the phone in his pocket, beckoning him to use it to get a free pass into the flight. He debated with himself over it, before succumbing to the thought of a free fare. Using the local database, he inserted his name into the flight list, praying that the police won't get a tp on his location. He waited and waited, until the plane finally arrived. He made a ticket machine sputter out a ticket for the plane, and he went through the motions of boarding.

He was going to Los Santos.


	2. Chapter 2: New Year's Toke

**Vespucci Beach**

**January 1st, 2014**

_"GIVE ME BACK MY FUCKING UNDERWEAR!"_

A massive bodybuilder towered over Trevor, dangling his dirty underwear in one hand and pushing Trevor away in the other. It was New Years Day, and almost everyone was going to the beach to celebrate. Trevor went too, but to get some weed only, as that was the only legal drug in San Andreas.

_"I SWEAR TO GOD, IF YOU DON'T GIVE ME MY UNDERWEAR, I WILL RIP YOUR BALLS OFF!"_

Trevor, by now, was fuming mad. He was wearing some swimming trunks that he bought just to "blend in" and his tattoos on his torso was showing. The "R.I.P Michael" tattoo on his arm was still present, along with new tattoos along his arms and body. The bodybuilder, however, remained unamused by the spectacle. Trevor repeatedly threw raging punches at him, and the bodybuilder cheerfully jumped to the side whenever Trevor threw one. His one weakness was his speedos, however. A mistake that he would regret, and Trevor would relish.

Trevor landed a powerful kick to the balls of the bodybuilder, and he flopped to the ground in pain. Trevor reclaimed his underwear, and praised his victory by posing on top of the fallen man. The onlookers of the fight silently backed away while nervously cheering, as to not anger Trevor. He hopped off the man, and proceeded to the Smoke on the Water shop along the beachfront. He plopped in one of the new tools, and queued for a blunt to smoke.

As Trevor sat waiting for his blunt to be rolled and filled, his eyes were peeled to the television out of boredom. A Weazel News broadcast was playing, and Trevor began to watch intently.

"This is Weazel News, confirming your prejudices.

We have a groundbreaking news story coming in from Chicago for all of you today!"

Trevor strained to remember where Chicago was.

_Chincago...no, Chicago! In Minnesota...no! Goddamn it, where is it..._

_ILLINOIS! Hell yeah, score one for Trevor's mind, assholes!_

"The Fox has eluded capture for a long time within Chicago; causing peace and chaos within the city. Some say that he is a hero, protecting the innocent from being prey of crime.

Others say that he is a disgrace to keeping the peace, claiming that he is making the budgets smaller and smaller for the police force. All agree, however, that The Fox has recently disappeared from Chicago entirely. No sightings or reports of The Fox have came in in recent days.

Is The Fox dead? Or, has he found a new place to fight crime and displace careers?

Next time, on Weazel News."

Trevor stared at the screen, absorbing all the information. He scratched his cheek unconsciously, thinking about "The Fox"

_The Fox? What the hell type of name is that? Has that guy ate a damn peyote? Or is he just batsh-_

"Do you want your weed, man?"

Out of surprise, Trevor grabbed the outstretched arm and plunged it into the glass counter, shattering it into pieces and bloodying the man's arm.

"MY ARM! I CAN'T FEEL IT, YOU CULO!"

Trevor ran out of the shop, with the blunt in one hand and a middle finger in the other.

_"Hey, you surprised me first, asswipe!"_

Trevor darted down some interconnected alleyways near the shop, before sitting down near a garbage dumpster to rest and toke the blunt. Sirens rang on the roads outisde of the alleys, most likely coming for Trevor. He sat there for some time, smoking and coughing, until the sirens ceased their blaring. Then, he got up and took out his phone. He dialed the phone number for Michael, and stood agitated until the phone answered.

**"T, I'm busy with something. What do you want?"**

_"Mikey, do you wanna go bowling?"_

The phone hung up.


	3. Chapter 3: Santos Eclipse

**"Flight 173 has landed. Enjoy your stay!"**

Aiden woke up from the monotony of blank and void dreams, to the bright sun streaking into the passenger jet. He looked around, as people were unbuckling and heading into the terminal of the airport. He did a quick scan with his phone, and saw no technological anomalies in the area. As he got up, he saw the outside world for the first time in several hours.

Sunshine and bliss.

He exited the plane and entered the terminal, which was buzzing with activity and chatter. Several TVs were hanged on the terminal's roof, periodically displaying the Blume logo before jumping back to Weazel News. One particular news feature hijacked the screens of each TV, and took the attention of Aiden.

**"Welcome to a special Weazel News announcement! We have breaking news from the dreary city of Chicago.**

**Some call him the Vigilante, The Fox, or just an average crook. It seems that no one has spotted the Vigilante for a while now, as he has ceased his daily routine of fighting crime and angering local officials.**

**Police are saying that the Fox has been apprehended and arrested, with support from the Blume Corporation, even though they have not issued his identity or his location. Chicago has recently underwent a huge governmental revamp, as the previous mayor's scandal recently arose, and this may just be a way to claim fame and temporary satisfaction from the public.**

**For the shiny and sunny city of Los Santos, the new Mile High Club skyscraper has now been bought by the Blume Corporation, and will begin new installations of ctOS functions for the city. Plans to extend into Blaine County are in the future.**

**This has been...Weazel News!"**

By the time the news broadcast had finished, Aiden had already crossed the road that led to the airport's parking garage. He swiftly and silently hopped into a nearby sleek Vapid Peyote, with a gleaming black paint. He pulled out of the garage, and sped into the road beside it, bursting with taxi and bus traffic. He pulled out his phone again, and searched for the nearest free real estate. An apartment came up in the Eclipse Towers, with a price of four hundred thousand dollars. Since he had nearly a million dollars already shared between several bank accounts and off shore networks, he purchased the apartment and sped towards it.

It was surprising how quick and easy he bought the apartment, considering the fact that he did not even consult a real estate professional or the actual owners of the Eclipse Towers. He shrugged this off, as any plan to sneak up and attack him would be foiled as soon as they stepped inside the towers. As he saw the Eclipse Towers come into view, jutting over the Los Santos skyline, he thought to himself a simple statement.

_A new life._


	4. Chapter 4: Burning Steel

**"Bzzt Bzzt! Wake up, fat ass."**

Franklin laid half-awake on his couch with the iconic _Swimming Pools _song playing, a Lamar kicked the arm of the couch.

_"Huh...? What the hell you want, Lamar?"_

**"I rang yo muthafuckin' ass SEVEN TIMES. Did you watch the news?"**

_"Unlike you, I have a life."_

**"Whatever."**

Lamar flicked on the television, as Franklin peered over the balcony. Smoke arose from the center of the city, a small speck to Franklin.

_"Why the hell is there smoke?"_

**"Can I show yo ass?"**

The television was flooded with graphic images of burning fire and ascending smoke, all coming from the new Blume Tower in the Mile High Club building. Periodical explosions bursted from the tower, as LSPD choppers flew overhead.

_"Goddamn, man...and that's the new Blume crib too!"_

**"You know what that means, nigga? No Internet! Start hustlin', as that's the only thing you can do now before you shoot your own ass from boredom."**

_"Nah...I know a guy that can hook me up with some tech. Name's Lester, creepy mofo."_

* * *

><p>The ash and smoke floated over most of the city like a choking haze, stretching from the boundaries of Vinewood all the way to the beaches of Vespucci. All day, fire engines and police sirens blared, as police choppers and emergency response helicopters flew high in the sky. Many citizens and tourists hacked and coughed from the smoke, trying not to breathe it in.<p>

Aiden watched the spectacle from his new apartment in the Eclipse Towers. The smoke lightly floated underneath him like an ocean, spiraling and twirling like a ballerina.

_I didn't do this. Even if I wanted to, it would be apparent that I did it..._

_Oh God._

Aiden sat, thinking hard about who did it. He was quick to cocnlude that someone had framed him; but who? Blume wouldn't waste so much money burning their enw tower to blame him, and all of the police thugs back in Chicago had no influence in Los Santos. The Chicago South Club seemed like the best answer, but they could only order hits on him from Illinois; not burn a multi-billion dollar tower to frame him.

As he sat thinking, an intrusion into his phone occured. He quickly grabbed the phone, and traced the location. It bounced to and fro across the island, before settling in another area of Los Santos.

A hacker with a username "LestyLikesBooty".


End file.
